Catalyst
by Shining Zephyr
Summary: He had dreams about him, but one night, he was sure he saw him for real. The single question remained- was what he saw and felt real or not? SnakeOtacon at the end if you squint.


**Seeing as dreams are one of my favorite things to write right now, I wanted to do a sort of dream-like idea. One that leaves readers confused as to whether such a thing did in fact happen or not. That, and seeing as Damnation as left MANY of you scratching your heads going "what just happened?" makes me grin like an idiot. Naturally, this has Snake and Liquid authoress love in it. It's also got slash implications, if you dare to squint. They are not very strong, but I'm pretty damn sure they're there.**

**The following songs inspired this fiction: **"Armory Battle" **from the MGS-TTS soundtrack,** "Soldier VS. Ghost" **from the MGS-TTS soundtrack,** "Rope Escape" **from the MGS-TTS soundtrack, and a ton of other songs I really cannot remember.**

**I don't own MGS. I sure wish I did on occasion, though.

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**WARNING: This fic has a squint of SnakeOtacon near the end and lots of angst.**

**For **Solid Snake's Soldier- **the inspiration of a human Solid Snake in my eyes. A real friend who can listen if you need it. One whose ideas I could bounce off of and never be laughed at for such stupid things. The one who got my to write squinty SnakeOtacon. The authoress who inspired me to write Metal Gear for the first time. The teacher, the Joy, and the one I strive to become.  


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Catalyst

"Shit!"

Solid Snake, or David, shot up out of bed, his hand against his chest and breathing heavily. The nighttime darkness seeped into his room, inviting itself to try and offer him what little comfort it really could give. Stars twinkled over the house in the middle of the woods, softly singing their songs of light to the troubled ex-mercenary. The pillow that rested his head was drenched in sweat and tears from a dream that didn't seem to die. He held his head in his hands and took a shuddering breath, trying to calm his nerves.

What the hell was wrong with him?

The past few nights were repeats of one another, dream after dream. Nightmare after nightmare plagued him, worrying him more and more as they dragged on like the never-ending pull of ocean waves. The same face, staring down at him tied up and frightened, smirking and licking his lips with pleasure, his fingers cracking needlessly and the same haunted voice taunting him.

"_I dare you to. I know you want to do it, so just try…"_

He leaned back slowly and moaned softly. Why? He just wanted to escape reality for a couple of hours, and he had to put up with this- no, _these_ dreams about his seemingly deceased brother were coming more and more frequently. Every night now, it was the same thing. He'd find himself tied up somewhere- it was different every time- and Liquid Snake would be hovering over him, giving him that calm, sadistic look of knowingness. He'd grunt, struggle, and fight his way to try and be free. Then Liquid would walk up to him, kneel down, and stare into his eyes.

He'd clench his fist and slam it across Snake's face, laughing while doing so.

He'd wake up, sweating and completely petrified for several moments before finally realizing it had all been a simple dream, and then he'd lie back down and sleep for a couple more hours. He'd go through another day and repeat the same process over again that same name- tied up, different spot… there was no conversation, no words spoken. Just the needed proof that he wasn't superior to his brother. He was just as vulnerable to the torment like Liquid was, if not more so than him.

Quietly, he swung his legs over his bed and grunted, getting up and yawning as silently as he could. He didn't want to wake his most trusted companion and semi-lover from his dreaming sleep. They had been best friends for quite some time now, but now the ex-mercenary was beginning to feel something a little more than just a simple friendship. As he walked out of his bedroom and out towards the living room, he thought he had heard some noises from outside the house. Shaking his head, he sat himself on the couch and simply stared into the darkness of the night, coughing as lightly as he could and shivering as a cold draft blew into the room. He needed to get away from the bedroom… hell, he needed to get away from _Alaska,_ for god's sake.

This place was too full of memories from the past and love that he once cherished. He could hear a soft sort of melody playing in his ears- one that intertwined guitar and piano, as if to form a sort of mellow harmony that could never be broken. There was no music being physically played or any radio to play such a sad song of heart, but he knew he heard it. He moved from the couch to the door and stood there for several long seconds before opening the door and squeezing through the small opening.

The air outside nipped at his skin as he looked around and felt tears brim in his eyes. He felt sick and disgusted. He was supposed to be strong, to not have any emotion at all. And now here he was, crying about some fucking dream of the past and standing in the snow like a kid lost in the night. Wind lightly blew in his face, and he closed his eyes, the tears finally falling down his face. As he contemplated his thoughts of just running away from his problems, his dreams, his reality that he had created for himself in the wilderness, his ears perked up in a sort of cat-like way.

A shiver rushed down his spine as he turned around slowly, searching for the source of fear that was now hunting him. A voice whispered, "_Can you feel it, Snake… can you feel the rush in your blood?"_

He clenched his fists and grounded his teeth, his eyes scanning the plains for any signs of human life. Yet he saw no one- not a body, not a shadow, nothing in the vicinity. He was hearing voices again, damn it. He slowly wandered to the nearest tree and sighed heavily, punching the stump with all his might and allowing the blood on his knuckles to begin to drip through his fingers. The sweat began to be absorbed by his bandana once more, and he grunted in pain as the feeling of hurt crawled through his hand. His eyes traveled down to his knuckles.

He was used to aching hands. Why should this be any different?

"_I can see you, brother. But can you dare to find me?"_

Snake shuddered, his breathing becoming heavier with each passing nanosecond. He took a fleeting glance behind him. Nothing. Jeez, he was probably hallucinating again. How much longer was this going to…

He froze.

The blonde man stood in front of him, his appearance transparent and face smug. He was shirtless, much like the last time his foe had seen him in his dream. His arms were crossed in front of him, his hair seemingly blowing in the wind. It couldn't be, could it? He didn't know for sure. His fists clenched up, blood still trickling out of the wounds. "You. Aren't. Real."

The spirit took a step towards his "brother" and gestured towards him ever so slightly. The grin stayed plastered on his face as he watched the face morph into one of hated fear. _"What's wrong?"_ he whispered kindly, voice dripping with poison._ "Don't you like family reunions? Don't you enjoy the bonding experience that you can attain through the time you've spent reaming about me? Yes, I know about those,"_ he added dryly, raising an eyebrow at Snake's terrified expression. _"Who doesn't know about those nightmares of yours?"_

Snake's good hand went slowly behind his back, keeping his eyes focused on his seemingly deceased sibling and making sure to breathe, as well. He was aiming to grab the knife hidden in his back pocket, one that had been sheathed for who knew how long. After all, Big Boss himself has used it, and well, Snake wasn't exactly ready to use it- or needed to use it- until the time came. He took a deep breath. "You're _dead._ I watched you die some five months ago."

_"Did you?"_ it replied quietly.

His hand gripped the hilt of the blade behind him. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Yes."

The blade was out of the sheath and lashed out at the figure in a flash. It slashed through thin air, doing nothing but allowing more fear to slide down his back. Liquid Snake laughed harshly at his attempt._ "Pathetic," _he taunted, bored. _"Is that all you can do to me?"_

"Effing… son of a…"

He couldn't think clearly. Thoughts swam in mindless dribble and murky waters, not connecting to anything he was doing. His feet shuffled backwards, bumping the tree behind him and making him feel like a cornered animal. Sure, Liquid was a ghost, and yes, he was standing right in front of him with a look of calmest fury in his eyes. Snake gripped the knife once more and took a deep breath. His hand reached out and swiped at the ghost, but when he thought he would move right through the body, the hand touched flesh. He froze. Eyes flickered with confusion. "I don't… I don't get it."

Liquid gave a small "hmph" in return. _"You wouldn't, you bloody fool."_

Snake's one hand gripped onto the shoulder for seeming support, and the knife tried to slash across the body once more. Immediately, the body became intangible, just as he predicted, and his hand fell through the man's shoulder.

What he didn't expect was his arm coming all the way around and proceeding to slice his own arm in the process.

Metal ripped through flesh, and pain surged through his body like nothing he had ever experienced before. Snake dropped the knife and hit the snow, screaming at the top of his lungs. He'd never done this. Never once had he tried to kill a spirit- or a human, for that matter- and ended up getting hurt in the process. He looked down at his arm and cringed with utter discomfort, glancing back up and seeing his brother clench his own fist. His airway constricted considerably for several moments before screaming out a single name.

"_OTACON!"_

There was a creaking of a doorway inside the house, and a light flipped on. Four seconds later, it flipped off and there was a sound of footsteps running around. The door burst open, and out rushed a middle-aged man with jet black hair ran into the dead night, eyes filled with unmistakable worry and wearing nothing but sweats and a thin t-shirt. His glasses reflected the moonlight that tried to shine through the trees. His feet shuffled through the snow, and he stumbled for a moment. It was clear he had just woken up from a midwinter night's dream. "Snake? Where are you?"

He could feel his blood draining as Liquid's ghost advanced on him. "Over here! Near the forest entrance!"

There was a twinge of a yawn in his voice. "W-w-why are you over there?"

"Just get over here!"

Liquid smiled. _"He can't help you, Snake. Don't worry, though. It'll all be over soon enough."_

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

Liquid knelt down next to Snake and grinned. _"You'll see. Oh, trust me. You'll see **everything."**_

The next thing he knew, he felt a fist slam into his face and was knocked backwards onto the frozen water. He blacked out at the sound of Liquid's laughter and his best friend screaming his name.

/ / /

_Perfection. That was what he was. He clenched his fist and resisted the urge to slam it into his stomach while he was unconscious. Forest green eyes scanned his upper torso with distaste, his fist clenching. He turned away from the sight of his brother in front of him for a split second before grabbing a piece of string from in his pocket and tying up his hands. His face was concentrated, intent for one single purpose: to cause his brother as much pain as possible without physically killing him. _

_He brought the hands together and grumbled when tying them up. Snake had large wrists, to say the least…_

/ / /

"Oh, good. You're awake."

Snake grunted at the sound of the voice and opened one eye. He was on the floor again, white background surrounding them both. He tried to pull his hands out from behind his back and glared at the figure in front of him. Like his dreams, the rope that bound his hands together tied him up. He didn't speak, merely giving his foe a piercing look that screamed hatred and despair. Liquid gave a laugh. "I love it when you look at me like that. It makes me feel powerful."

The ex-mercenary struggled slightly once more. "Where are we?"

"The space between spaces, brother. The place between the light and the dark, heaven and hell, earth and space." He paced slightly, stroking his chin and frowning. "Kind of an odd space, don't you think?"

Snake's lip curled into a snarl. "Shut up. I could give less than a crap about the space you're calling this right now."

It was all he could utter. There wasn't much else for him to say at that moment, due to the fact he was staring at his dead brother in the face. And the fact that he was also in a room- er, _space_- completely different than anywhere he had ever been was enough to make him silent and observe everything. The air was dry and cool, the noise sucked up into nothingness. The blonde turned to his inferior brother and chuckled lightly. "You call this beautiful space crap? Hardly. I like to think of it as the start of something new, something wonderful. You could still rule with me, brother. Think of all the possibilities we could have together!"

The raven-haired male shot daggers. "_Never."_

"Pity." He knelt down next to his brother and showed that sadistic smile of his, the one that haunted Snake in his dreams. "But if you're not willing to join me…"

Snake braced himself, squeezing his eyes shut…

/ / /

_They were now the same. He watched the bruising begin to appear on the flesh and slowly but surely meld into other wounds. He flexed his hand, hearing his fingers crack needlessly and smiling to himself. He pushed a lock of hair behind his ear and glowered down at his sibling, feeling a rush of rage course through his blood. How __**dare**__ he try to destroy everything he longed for and desired. All he ever wanted was love and acceptance, but in the end, he got nothing. _

_He was thrown out, unwanted by society. Unloved by nature. The asymmetry theory was perfect at describing both of them. He glanced down at the body one more time, scowling and turning away from the sight._

_He deserved __**nothing.**_

_/ / /_

"Snake!"

He shot up out of bed and felt a wave of dizziness overtake him immediately. A soft swear escaped his lips as he rubbed his head and glanced at the fellow _otaku_ who had called his name. He was hovering next to his bed in worry, his hands on the sheets and examining him with worry. Snake coughed for several moments before finally holding his head and closing his eyes. His voice was hoarse. "Was it a dream, Otacon?"

He said nothing for several moments before looking down and whispering, "Yes."

Snake took a deep breath and laid back down, shaking his head into the pillow and letting it back out. He felt Otacon's hand slip into his own, feeling a sudden twinge of pain in his arm. He opened his eyes at the sound of a noise getting caught in his companion's throat and glanced at him, frowning. "What is it?"

"Your arm. It's bleeding."

His blood froze. Eyes widening with some kind of crazed fear, the ex-mercenary reached out and touched the scar-like wound on his body. The slight trickling of blood dripped onto the bed sheets as Snake looked up at Otacon, his voice hoarse and terrified.

"What's happening to me? My dreams… it's like they're becoming reality."

His friend had one answer to this. He sat down on the bed and embraced him tightly as Snake began to softly weep with resignation.

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**Well, there you have it. The end of this leaves off at something to be desired- a total wonderment of "what just happened?" I dare to ask if you liked it or not, seeing as I spent three weeks on the bloody thing… wow. -_-; Anyways, happy holidays and I hope to bring you all another tale soon. Reviews are loved. Thanks.**


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